The stranger entered the Hot Fortress region, walking as he observed his surroundings. He wore a black hooded cloak and moved steadily.
Since this was a border region, many different people were constantly coming and going. Thanks to that, the stranger didn't draw any attention as he walked.
Eventually, he found a nice-looking tavern to enter. He stepped inside.
To the left of the tavern were several tables for groups of three to four people, and on the right was a long counter where the bartender stood, lined with stools.
He sat on one of the stools near the bartender and ordered a beer. When the beer arrived, after a while, the conversation of three men at the table behind him caught his attention.
Man 1: Ahh… The beer here is really good, but easterners' beer was something else entirely. I wish Lord Berin would bring some to Hot Fortress.
Man 2: What do you mean by "easterners"?
Man 1: I'm talking about the Sira Continent. I had to go there once for work. I helped a guy over there—he paid me back with a barrel. It was amazing. I think even the nobles, maybe even the emperor of the Golden City, drink that stuff.
Man 3: Isn't Sira kind of dangerous though? From what I know, there aren't any kingdoms left there, and the whole place is in chaos.
Man 1: Honestly, the beer is the only good memory I have of that place. Well… the good pay I received too, of course.
Man 3: So are the rumors true about what's going on over there?
Man 2: You mean White Flame? Come on, man, I don't think so. It's just a story to scare kids. Two whole kingdoms wiped out because of a single man—does that sound possible to you?
Man 1: I've never seen him myself, but I've heard a lot. I even talked to someone who claimed he really saw him. The guy was terrified just telling the story.
Man 3: What kind of person is he, then? Tell us.
The man was just about to speak when someone entered the tavern. He was quite large, and his clothing was far finer than that of the other people.
Most of the patrons recognized him immediately, and the tavern fell silent.
(Note to readers: Words written in parentheses like this represent a character's inner thoughts.)
Stranger:(Not a noble… but he doesn't look poor either. Probably a merchant or a merchant's son. Judging by how scared everyone is, he must be someone important in Hot Fortress.)
The stranger smiled, though no one could see it beneath his hood.
Stranger:(Could he be my target…? The profile fits.)
At that moment, he heard whispers from the table behind him.
Man 3: Who's that?
Man 1: Just keep quiet… That's Raman, the son of Karahan Agha, the richest man in the city. They say he once crushed a man's skull with his bare hands.
Man 2: I've heard his father has strong connections with the nobles.
Upon hearing this, the stranger's smile twisted into something far more sinister.
Stranger:(BINGO!)
As Raman stumbled inside, the bartender silently gestured to warn the stranger, speaking in a hushed voice.
Bartender: Get up from there—that's Raman's seat. If you don't move, you'll get yourself into trouble.
The stranger ignored him. He lifted his head slightly. Even with the hood, the bartender could clearly see his face now.
The moment the bartender saw that smile, he flinched and took a step back.
Meanwhile, Raman approached the stranger and shouted.
Raman: Hey you, get the hell up! That's my seat!
Some of the patrons had already begun to slip out of the tavern in fear. Still, the stranger didn't move an inch.
Stranger: I don't like your tone.
He lifted his head, his expression now nothing like his previous smile—cold, serious, terrifying. He stared straight at Raman.
Stranger: If you keep talking to me like that, I'll make sure you're never able to talk again.
Raman flinched slightly, then tried to suppress his fear and forced an angry laugh.
As he laughed, he turned to the remaining people in the tavern and shouted.
Raman was half drunk; it was obvious he had been drinking even before coming here.
Raman: HAHAHA! Hey everyone, did you hear what he said?
He was practically making an announcement to the few patrons still inside.
Raman: He dared defy me! Me—Raman, son of Karahan Agha… And this is what I do to anyone who defies me.
He suddenly threw a punch, but the stranger slipped away from it effortlessly. In an instant, he vanished from Raman's field of view and delivered a knee strike to Raman's stomach.
Raman tried to punch again, but the stranger dodged it as well and slammed his fist into Raman's face.
Raman quickly backed away and pulled out a knife from his pocket.
Raman:[Weapon Enhancement]
(Note to readers: [A Spell/Skill/Move Being Used] This bracket will be used)
After using [Weapon Enhancement], Raman's weapon and hand began glowing blue.
Stranger:(So, he uses the water element.)
Raman: Yeah, you can fight, but I can use magic, you bastard!!
Fueled by the spell, Raman launched a surprisingly fast attack for someone his size—but the stranger dodged it with ease.
He grabbed Raman's knife arm, struck his chest first, then snapped the arm holding the knife, forcing him to drop it.
Raman fell to his knees in agony. The stranger looked down at him and spoke.
Stranger: I don't need to use magic to beat a weakling like you.
He kicked Raman's back, knocking him face-first to the ground, then stepped on his head and picked up the dropped knife.
Stranger: You introduced yourself. Now it's my turn. I am White Flame of the Sira Continent—and I always stand by my words.
After shouting this loud enough for everyone in the tavern to hear, he cut off Raman's tongue with Raman's own knife.
Raman's twisted, tongueless screams filled the tavern and the streets outside.
The stranger removed his hood and spoke with a voice full of confidence and authority.
White Flame: Spread the word. White Flame is now in Sin.